Evergreen
by whatevergirl
Summary: VincentTifa. The smell of roses reminds Tifa of many things. Now, the smell of pinecones also brings back special memories. Please R


Final Fantasy isn't mine and no amount of wishing can change that. Any references made to other things, those things probably don't belong to me either … but my imagination does.

A Vincent / Tifa for you! ♥ it is meant to be at Christmas time.

(My other 2 unfinished stories will be updated when I feel motivated to write them.)

* * *

**Evergreen.**

" All I want for Christmas is my 2 front teeth …"

Marlene was singing loudly as she ran through the house. It was Christmas Eve and she was in a very good mood.

Denzel had been running around with her, but he had collapsed onto the floor. There he sat, on his own and half sleep when Tifa opened the front door.

Her eyes were sparkling and her skin seemed to shine as she moved like liquid inside, shutting the door softly behind her. With a sigh, she sank to the ground, her long hair cascading down over her shoulders like a chocolate waterfall.

The young woman breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of the pink roses that flourished, seeming to go more and more beautiful with each passing day.

The roses were special. They were a reminder: a reminder of her love, and reminder of her friend, but also a reminder of everything that could be. They felt like soft velvet when she ran her fingers over the petals, they seemed to turn her way when she entered a room, they added a beautiful, warm glow to each of the rooms in which they had been placed.

When she looked at the roses, all of Tifa's troubles seemed to simply drift away, leaving her feeling soft, feeling as though everything was going right for her and as though every room she entered gained a gentle warmth that spread to everyone and everything.

She slowly pulled her self up and walked through into the kitchen and putting the kettle on. She leaned against one of the counter and she let her head fall back. She let herself relax. The scent of the roses still drifted delicately around, giving her brief moments of being able to smell the familiar aroma.

Everything seemed distanced: the whistling of the kettle, Marlene's singing, Denzel's snoring – it all seemed miles away, as though she was hearing it from the radio, coming through a closed window.

Her thoughts were not in that kitchen, they were not in the house. Her thoughts were not even in the present time, they were in the past. In the small apartment, which housed the man of her dreams, her thoughts happily drifted to and fro. She remembered the tight lock of the arms of a man, tall, rather dark, and most handsome. She remembered the scent of pinecones, and the smell of that particular apartment, of that particular man. She could still feel the gentle sighs warming her ear as he rested his cheek on the side of her head.

As she took another deep breath, the roses reminded her of their presence again, and again her thoughts left. This time, they did not go as far. They simply went to the next room. They went to a photo frame on the top of the fireplace. It was a photo of three young women. On the left, she knew was herself, smiling and laughing. On the right, there was the young ninja princess of Wutai. In the middle, there was a young woman, in a pink dress. She was laughing as they others had thrown their arms around her. In the arms of this young woman, there was a large bunch of pink roses.

Though this particular woman was now gone, her words still remained. Tifa's memory of those words occasionally drifted, but the scent of the roses never failed to bring them back.

"There are many types of love, my friend, only one of them is really rare. Can you guess which? I'll tell you. True love. Clichéd though it may be, it's true. To find someone who you love, with all your heart, is most rare. But it is very very beautiful. If you find it, hold onto it, cherish it, for if you let go, it may simply … drift away."

Tifa was now holding on to a love. This love filled her soul with soothing warmth and her heart throbbed to think about it. The man she loved was kind and understanding. He was most understanding. He knew what it was like to have a misplaced love; he knew how it was difficult to recover from it. That simply made him more caring.

His strong arms would hold her while her heart struggled with emotions. He held her tightly as her mind tried to understand everything. But as he looked at her, as his beautiful red eyes gazed into her chocolate eyes, she understood he was like a rose; beautiful to look at, and yes, he had his thorns. Like a rose cut off from the bush, he may have even been pulled out of his comfortable life, a life where he knew what to do; but now she remembered: Roses are delicate, they are easy to crush.

Though he held her with strong arms, his thoughts may have been elsewhere. Maybe they had been with the woman with dark brown hair and a small silver haired child, like in the photo lying loosely on a table. Maybe they had been in a time and place when he was small, and in the arms of a rather young scientist who looked quite a lot like him, but with glasses. All she did know, was that he had a troubled past, and that their being together was as much a comfort to him as it was to her.

The phone rang, shaking her out of her wandering thoughts. She picked it up and smiled, as she moved to get a cup from the cupboard. Vincent really was thoughtful, and as she looked over at the tree that stood in the corner of the other room beautifully dressed, as she smelt the scent of pinecones mixed with roses, she knew she loved him.

She thought of his apartment, smelling of pinecones. She though of Vincent, so beautiful. Looking at the Christmas tree, she knew her love for him was on going; always there; evergreen.

* * *

There we go. Hoped you enjoyed it. Please review now. ♥ 


End file.
